Big Brother
by likeoneofyourfrenchfries
Summary: Riker is an only child. His life is filled with fear, abuse, and lots and lots of rules. He doesn't seem to have a real family. That could all change, when he meets the Lynch family. It's quite a road, to free yourself from abusive parents, but it can be done with the right people, and lots of love. R5, AU.
1. Chapter 1

Ever since Riker was born, he'd been taught the rules.

You eat what you're given, and nothing more. No taking food from the kitchen, no taking food from strangers. If these rules are broken, you get a beating. If anyone asks where the bruises are from, tell them you got into a fight, and it turned bad. Never tell anyone the truth about your life at home. You never miss a day of school, or a single assignment. You never break school rules unless it is to lie about your home life. You never get anything lower than a B in each class. If these rules are broken, you get a beating, and aren't allowed to eat for three days. You never talk back to your parents. You never question them, you never disrespect them, you never lie to them. If these rules are broken, you get a beating, and are locked in the closet for three days without food or water.

Harsh rules, he knew. But, that was just how life was for him. He got along pretty well otherwise. He did well in school, and rarely received only times he did break the rules were in times of pure desperation. This was one of those times.

He was so hungry. He was faint, and feared he may pass out. If he did, and ended up in the hospital, he might be questioned about his life. It was either take a beating, or take a beating and be starved for three days. The option was clear.

He heard the whistle to call them in from recess, to go to lunch. He held in his hand a fistful of quarters, as he walked to get in line. He collected them, for times like these, and kept them in his friends pencil box. He knew that Ellington took a couple without asking from time to time, but Riker supposed that was just the price he paid for his parents not finding out about his money. That's another rule. No money. Anything you find goes to them.

As they were led into the cafeteria, instead of sitting down at the tables like he did every day, he got in line to buy school lunch. He placed a piece of cheese pizza on his tray, and picked up an apple and a carton of milk as well. He paid, and walked over, to sit down beside Ellington.

"So you're eating today?" Ell asked, between mouthfuls of potato chips. "That's good, dude, you're practically a skeleton. Riker nodded silently, taking a guilty bite of his pizza. He ate slowly, taking breaks between each bite to sip his milk. He had barely eaten half of his lunch before his stomach started to hurt. He wasn't used to this much food, so he passed the rest to Ell, who ate thankfully.

His mind was buzzing with nervousness for the rest of the day. He knew that he had to tell his dad about what he did. If he lied, and his dad found out, it would be much worse. Still, getting a beating was terrifying, especially when he knew it was coming.

He walked home extra slow that day, his heart pounding. He couldn't help but wonder how bad it would be. Maybe he'll only use the belt. Riker thought hopefully. The belt was the least painful of anything his dad had ever done. When Riker was about six, the slaps turned to punches, the kicks got harder, and chokings for longer. That's why he dreaded growing older. He wondered how it could get worse, but still knowing it most certainly could.

He almost skipped out, and went home with Ell, but he knew that it would only delay the inevitable. His hands began to shake as he walked up the front porch, and opened the door to his home. He walked inside and shut the door behind him. He called out for his father. "Dad..?"

His dad came downstairs, and looked him up and down. "What do you need, son?"

Riker swallowed hard. "I need to tell you something. I broke a rule."

His father stepped closer to him. "Which one? What did you do?" There was only a hint of anger in the man's voice, as he was very good at suppressing his emotions until they needed to appear. It made it all the more terrifying for Riker.

"I..I got f-food from s-school."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, there was a sharp smack across his jaw that almost put him on his knees. He was shoved to the ground by his shoulders, where he instinctively curled in on himself. The tears started immediately, as his whole body was aching already, and this was only the beginning. His father landed a kick to his stomach, and reached down to drag him across the living room by his hair. He started begging as his father opened the basement door, and screamed as he was flung down the hard concrete steps.

He landed at the bottom, sobbing, while his father walked down after him. He was pushed up against the wall, his feet lifted off the floor as the man's fingers wrapped around his throat. Riker kicked and squirmed until there were black spots in his vision, and was then dropped to the floor unexpectedly, where he crumpled. His father made him stand straight by pulling him up by his hair, and then landed a painful punch underneath Riker's jaw.

Riker, now face down on the concrete, was begging, screaming for it to be over, promising that he will never do it again. His father pulled him up by his hair, and ordered him to support himself. "Shirt off, face the wall." The man spat at him. Riker weakly pulled his shirt over his head, and braced himself on the wall, his feet slightly more than shoulder width apart.

He heard the clinking of his father's belt being removed, and shut his eyes tightly. The man whipped the leather over his son's back, hard. Riker cried out, and his knees buckled. "Get up!" His father screamed, and he forced himself back into a standing position. Riker took one hit after another, it all melding into a sea of pain and agony. At some point, his dad switched tactics, now whipping with the metal end as well. Riker could feel the blood dripping down his back, and all of the many scars and bruises he was sure to obtain from this beating alone.

"Hope it was worth it, you little shit. Stay down here the rest of the night, then, if you're gonna keep begging for me to stop." His father said, before turning and walking up the steps, slamming the door behind him.

Only then did Riker fall to the ground, curling up into a ball. He now let all of his tears go, choked sobs leaving his lips. He felt the blood beginning to dry in brown streaks on his back, and he rolled over to face the ceiling, the concrete cooling the pain. His chest heaved with exhaustion, and his vision still spotted with color.

He waited a few minutes before moving, as he knew getting up too soon may bring his dad back downstairs, thinking he could take more. This wasn't the first time he's had to spend the night in the basement. There were no lights, so when the sun went down, he'd be trapped in total blackness. There were mice and spiders in every crevice, and moths littering the rafters along the ceiling. It was every child's nightmare.

Riker brought himself to a sitting position, wincing as the blood on his back stuck to the floor, tearing open the wounds again. He couldn't put his shirt back on tonight, either. His dad might just beat him again for getting blood on his clothes.

Pushing himself weakly to his feet, Riker started his ritual of 'walking it off'. While the rational part of his brain knew that it didn't help at all, he had managed to convince himself at a young age that he could dispel most of the pain just by rhythmically walking in a circle.

He did this until the sun had began to set, and exhaustion started creeping it's way into his bones. He knew that he was not going to be able to sleep down there, he never had been able to before. Still, as the evening progressed, he decided that it was 'bedtime'. Riker laid down in the center of the floor, as far away from the other creatures he was pretending not to see. He curled up, still shirtless, on the freezing concrete. He couldn't get blood on anything, so even though there were blankets down there, he couldn't use them. It felt like trying to sleep in a refrigerator.

That night was horrendous. Riker got absolutely no sleep, as the mix of pain, cold, and fear would not even allow him to close his eyes. He felt as if spiders were crawling all over his body, and he swore that he was being circled by the rats. By the time the sun did come up, he was shaking violently and uncontrollably.

He almost flew to his feet in joy when he heard the unlocking of the basement door. Bending down slowly to pick up his shirt, Riker made his way to the door, and opened it hesitantly. His father was seemingly already back asleep on the couch. Walking silently up the stairs, Riker made his way into his room, and shut the door gently. Finally. It was really over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, I'm sorry this one's a lot shorter, but I wrote out chapter summaries to make sure the story went how I wanted it to, and it took me a lot less words than I thought it would to get all of the information in. I'm also sorry it's taking me so long to update. Nevertheless, I really appreciate your reviews, the input keeps me inspired. Next time, I promise, at least 1500 words. This chapter was kind of a set up for future stuff so yeah. Filler chapters suck, but are painfully necessary. Any-who, on to the story!**

That morning routine is a particularly painful one. First, Riker tries to gently wipe the excess dried blood from his back, without breaking open the wounds. Then, he gingerly props himself up on the bathroom sink, washing his face and hair. The bruises are dark and painful, and it hurts to even rinse them under the water, but he had to wash the blood away. Once he was as clean as he was going to get, he slowly put on a black, long sleeved t-shirt, and baggy jeans. He reached up into the medicine cabinet where his mother's makeup was, for the few times she actually shows up. He gently powdered his face, to hide as much of the purple skin as possible, and then put on a beanie to hide his hair, where chunks of it had been ripped out.

Finally, being as cleaned up as he was going to get, he went out to the living room. His father was passed out on the couch. That meant no breakfast. Riker sighed, and went to put on his shoes. They were old and torn, but they worked. He almost felt like crying as he picked up his backpack, and not because of the pain. He didn't want to live this way. But, what was he supposed to do? This was his family. Despite everything his dad did to him, he was still the reason that Riker is currently alive. He _should _be grateful.

"Bye dad. See you after school." Riker said as he pulled open the front door. No response. He hung his head, and added a quick "I love you," before walking out into the chilly morning air.

He cried quietly on the way to school, alone and scared. _What if people notice my bruises? What if someone tells a teacher? What if I have to talk to a social worker? What if I get taken away from my dad? _There were so many questions swirling around in his head. He just didn't know what to do.

When he got to school, Ellington was waiting for him by the doors. Riker faked a small smile, it hurting too much to move his face. He tilted his head down, and hoped that Ell wouldn't notice the bruises, or just mistake them for shadows or something. "Hey, Rike. I have some great news!" Ellington all but shouted. "I didn't want to wait until class, because, well, I know you like your privacy and stuff."

Riker faked interest, smiling and widening his eyes despite the pain. "What?" His voice came out tired and gravelly, and he scolded himself inwardly for speaking despite his current condition.

"Well, batman," Ell said, laughing at his own stupid joke, "I think a girl likes you."

If Riker had been drinking water, he would have done a total spit take. "What?" He said again, more curiosity this time. "Who is she? Do I know her? Is she cute?" All of these questions were flying past his lips, and his brain couldn't seem to stop it.

"Dude, slow down!" Ell laughed. "I haven't seen you this excited, like, ever!"

"Just tell me who she is!" Riker yelped, getting a bit overly excited. It's just, no one has ever really liked him before. Usually, girls walk a ten feet circle around the shy, skinny, pale blonde kid.

"Okay, okay, chill out! She's this girl in like, the 4th grade or something. I mean, I wasn't sure if you'd go for it, 'cause she's a year younger than us, but, you know. I don't know her name, but she's pretty cute, and blonde. She was like, staring at you, all of yesterday. I don't know how you didn't notice! She kinda followed you home for a bit, but she turned on a different road." Ellington explained, and Riker's excitement continued to climb, as well as curiosity and...confusion. Why would a girl stalk him? He's pretty approachable, most days. Maybe it's because he's older than her.

Riker coughed, and he thought he tasted blood. "Do you know where I could find her?"

"She was watching you on the playground yesterday. I think their class has the same recess. Just look for the chick constantly watching you." Ell said.

* * *

Ellington was right. There was a girl watching him. But, not like she liked him. Like...she knew something. Riker got a sick feeling from even looking at her. There was no way he was going to talk to her. _What if she knows something's not right with my family? What if she tells somebody. _He was near puking, simply from fear. He didn't want anything to do with her. And, as she watched him from across the playground that day, he promised himself that the only words he would ever speak to her would be "Go away."


	3. Chapter 3

**Bit of a longer chapter this time, heh, I got inspired I guess. PLEASE REVIEW EVEN IF YOU HAVE NOTHING TO SAY BECAUSE REVIEWS MAKE ME THINK IM DOING SOMETHING RIGHT PLEASEEEEEEEE. **

Riker slid into his seat, after the most awkward recess of all time. That girl stared at him the whole time, and it was hard to get a good look without making eye contact. One thing's for sure; he is absolutely avoiding her for the rest of his existence.

As kids got settled into their seats, a sick feeling began in Riker's chest, like he had forgotten something, done something wrong. And then it hit him; he didn't do his math homework last night. To make things worse, his teacher, Mrs. Hosier, announced a math test. One that he had not prepared for. Math had never been easy for him, and he always needed extra studying to pass tests, which he usually did. Just not this time.

As the test papers were being passed out, Riker began to tap his foot in nervousness. If he misses a homework assignment, fine. If he flunks a math test, fine. But both of those, at the same time, in the same class? His grade's going to drop, and his father is going to get a phone call about it.

Tears started to well up in Riker's eyes. Another beating? There's just no way. He wouldn't be able to take it. It was at this time that he started praying. He couldn't get beat again. He was too scared. He'd rather hop on a bus going god knows where than go home. He wiped his tears quickly, as the teacher came by him. He cleared his throat. "Um, Mrs. Hosier? Can we use notes on this test?"

She shook her head. "Nope, no calculators either. This is a district assessment, and they're not allowed. Sorry, Riker."

Riker swore silently to himself. "And, um, do you think I could get extra time on my homework? Things were...kind of hectic at my house last night." He prayed she wouldn't ask questions about what 'hectic' implies.

"Sorry, If I gave you extra time, I'd have to give it to the whole class. No exceptions." She said, placing a test paper in front of him, before walking away. Riker began to panic. He was screwed. Unless he pulled this out of his ass, and passed the test, then he had absolutely no chance. He would have to go home facing his father's fist again, for the second day in a row.

Mrs. Hosier stood at the front of the class. "If you haven't already, remember to turn your homework into the basket. On this test, no notes, no calculators, and you all have a one hour time limit. So, if you don't finish in that time, you will have to turn in what you have. These papers will be graded by the time you leave school today, and you will all know what you got. Good luck!"

* * *

He got a D. He got 63%. Add that to the zero on his homework, his grade is currently a 71%. His father's policy? A's and B's only. Anything less is a beating, and three days of starvation. Riker's mind turned guiltily to lies. _Maybe he won't find out. Maybe I can push the beating back until tomorrow, so I'll have time to heal up more. _

However, he knew that this was not going to work when his father was waiting to pick him up after school.

Riker wanted to scream, to run up to a teacher and spill all of the secrets, begging for protection against his dad. Hell, he almost did it too, but the fear of what would happen to him if his dad ever got his hands on him again kept his mouth shut. He just swallowed thickly, and took small, shaky steps toward the white pick-up truck.

His dad didn't speak as Riker opened the door, and climbed fearfully inside. Not a word was spoken until they were halfway home.

"You got anything you wanna tell me, boy?" His dad spat angrily. Riker thought he could feel his bones shaking. He was so afraid. He almost got out the 'yes sir' he was planning on, but that's not what came out.

"Just please don't beat me!" Riker screamed, bursting into tears, and curling in on himself. "I can do better, I promise! I'll have perfect grades for the rest of the year! Please!" He was begging almost incoherently, and his father reached over, smacking him hard across his bruised cheek.

"Shut up, boy! You listen here! You fucked up! You wanna know what you do when you fuck up? You accept your motherfucking responsibility, and you take it like a man. So, shut the fuck up!"

When Riker's crying didn't cease, his father pulled the truck into a dark alleyway, and put it in park. He grabbed Riker by the neck, and pushed him harshly against the window. Riker shut his eyes and tensed, still not stopping his wailing and begging. "Listen here, you little shit. I have half a mind to just drop you here, leave you alone to fend against the rapists and murderers that stalk these parts. Maybe that'll show you just how fuckin good you got it, how much I do for you, and the least you could fucking do is get good fucking grades! It's not that hard to do your fucking homework!"

Riker snapped. "It is when you're laying in a bloody heap on the basement floor all night!" He ripped his throat raw with that one sentence, and immediately realized his mistake.

His dad dropped his grip, and pulled out of the alleyway, not saying a word. Riker wanted to apologize, but feared it would only make it worse. _What is he going to do to me? _Riker wondered. _Stick me in a closet for three days, that's for the backtalk, b__ut what about the beating? He might kill me, taking out all of his rage on me. _That's when his dad picked up his cell phone, and called someone.

"Hey, Zeke? Yeah, It's Aaron. I think the boy's finally fucked up bad enough to deserve it. You can do what you want, have your fun. You know how to get in. I'll drop the bastard off at the house, lock him in, and you can come and have your way with him. Just don't kill him, you know, on purpose."

* * *

Riker tried to hide. He looked everywhere for someplace to put himself where he couldn't be found, but he knew it was no use. Whatever 'have your way with him' means, it was going to happen, and the longer he stalled, the worse it would get. Still, this is the first time his dad had ever called someone else to beat him. This guy must be good, considering he has a key to the house or something.

Riker flinched, sitting on the couch, curled up like a turtle, when the front door opened. "Riker, front and center!" The man, Zeke, screamed. Riker didn't move. "I'm gonna make this real fucking simple, kid. You listen to me, it's not nearly as bad. You hide from me, ignore me, well, you're gonna wish you had just obeyed. Now, I'm going to say this again. Front! And! Center!" Still, he didn't move. "All right, have it your way." Zeke muttered, his boots echoing off of the wooden floors of the kitchen.

Zeke rounded a corner to see Riker, shaking in his seat, staring at nothing like that will help him forget. "Goddammit boy! Stand here!" Zeke screamed, pointing at the space in front of him. Riker wouldn't, no, couldn't move. He had no control. Basic innate survival skills were in charge now, keeping him rooted to the spot. Zeke got real close to him, bending down so they were eye to eye.

"Take your fucking punishment like a man." He growled. "Have some dignity, and stop acting like a baby." Riker suddenly was able to make choices again. and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Y-yes...s-sir..." He whimpered breathily.

"That's it." Zeke said, straightening up again, and backing up into the middle of the room. "Now get over here."

Riker slid off of the couch, and took shaky steps to face Zeke in the center of the living room. "First rule boy, no tears. Absolutely not. You're gonna be a man someday, might as well act like one. How long this lasts depends on how well you take it. If you cry the whole time, then we won't stop until the waterworks do, for good. You hearin' me? Riker nodded, slowly, and wiped at the stale tears resting on his cheeks. "Second rule, do what I say, when I say. No questions, no pleading. They're not that difficult of instructions to follow."

Riker nodded again, and mumbled a "Yes sir.", staring at his feet.

"Good. Let's begin. Clothes off."

Riker looked up at him, confused. He slipped his shirt off, and looked back at Zeke. "Boy, what did I just fucking say? Follow instructions! From what I see, you've still got your jeans and boxers on."

* * *

By the time it was over, the sun had set. Riker laid on the living room carpet, sobbing quietly. Zeke was still in the other room, and if he heard Riker crying, he might just come back for more. That was not a beating. That was much, much worse.

There was blood running down the inside of his thighs, and drying on his face was a substance he's never seen before. His wrists and ankles had large bruises around the circumference from chains, that had been holding his body in various vulnerable positions for Zeke to take advantage of. He was covered in welts from a real, horsehair whip, and his jaw ached from being held open by a gag for a lot of the time. He'd heard a lot of words, too. _Is that really what sex is? It's gross, and it hurts a lot. Who would ever do that? _

Riker's eyes were not staying focused, and his heart was erratic. He felt faint, much worse than ever before. _Am I going to die? _


	4. Chapter 4

**Fourth chapter, yayyyyyy! Thanks for all of the support! I decided to finish this part tonight due to getting yet another review to continue, so REVIEW SO I FEEL INSPIRED ILY thank you, and enjoy. :)**

Despite everything, Riker still got up for school in the morning.

His dad came home around 3:30 AM, and added a couple of kicks to his ribs, for good measure. He told Riker that he wasn't gonna lock him in the closet this time, because there's no way in hell he's letting him miss school. But. come the weekend, he would be in the closet until the second he needed to leave for school on Monday morning. Riker just said, "Yes sir."

After his father had gotten drunk and passed out, Riker dragged himself to the bottom of the staircase. Painfully, he made his slow climb to the second floor of their trashed house. Then, without missing a beat, he continued to slide himself down the hallway with his bruised arms. Once reaching the bathroom, he pushed himself inside, and shut the door, reaching up with his toe to turn on the light.

"Okay," He said to himself, trying to find any remaining strength within himself. "I have to go to school tomorrow. I have to stand up." He reached up, gripping the counter top as hard as he could manage in his weakened state. "One...two...thre-oh shit!" Tears sprung to his eyes as his joints popped, his bruises ached, and cuts broke open with the effort of standing up. He stumbled, his knees giving out from underneath him. He clung to the counter with his upper body, his legs hanging limply. Taking another deep breath (which hurt very much with his bruised ribs), Riker pushed his feet underneath him again, pressing against the counter with his palms to take off some of the pressure.

Temporarily stable, he removed his hands, and turned his attention to the reflection of his naked body in the mirror on the door. Bruises all up his legs, dried blood still visible, having run in streaks down the insides of his thighs. His chest was blue, and both wrists were green and bloody from the pressure and friction of those chains. His face was covered in, now nearly see through, dried...something. Zeke had called it 'cum'. Riker didn't like that word.

He reached out to turn on the water faucet, and splashed water up into his face, rubbing off the substance, though the memory still remained. Riker wished he could wash that clean, too.

He held onto the countertop, taking a careful step to the side. His knees stayed. Slowly, he made his way to the bathtub. Riker's amount of chores he has to do directly correlates with how much water or electricity he uses, so this was rare. He usually only _showered _once a month, much less bathed. But, his sore body needed it. Riker turned on the spigot, feeling the water with his index finger, before putting the stopper in the drain. He had it just about as hot as he could handle it. That way, it would stay warmer longer, and his bath would last longer, without using any more water.

He gently lowered himself into the filling tub, and leaned back against the edge. He kicked his feet slightly, smiling at the soothing warmth. This was a real treat. Riker wished he could do it more often.

As the tub was now almost completely filled, Riker reached up and shut off the water flow. He laid back again, and sighed deeply. Everything hurt just a little bit less in the water. Despite the horror he had faced, he actually felt himself beginning to doze. Riker decided to let himself sleep. He knew he'd wake up when the water started to get chilly. A couple hours in the water could do him some good. He shut his eyes, and almost immediately, slipped away into a world where breathing didn't hurt.

* * *

Riker awoke approximately two hours later, and at first, he forgot where he was. The scenery had changed a bit, as the water had turned a diluted pink from his wounds, leaking blood. The water was bordering on lukewarm and room temperature. Riker sighed. "I need to get up." He said to himself, bracing his arms on the sides of the tub. He counted back silently in his head, before shoving his body out of the water.

It wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. His joints ached much less, and the wounds seemed to have started to heal. Riker stepped out of the water, and grabbed his towel, which was still hanging beside the tub from the last time he took a shower. He wrapped his body up, and gently started to dry himself off, being sure to steer clear of any cuts.

Once dry, he wrapped the towel around his waist, and leaned down to pull the plug on the water. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, noticing how tired he was. But, he couldn't go to sleep just yet. He still had homework to do. He had to be awake by 6:00 to make it to school on regular time, and he had to go in early to make test corrections. He couldn't go back to sleep at all.

Riker sighed again, and pushed open the bathroom door, flicking off the light as he left. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Riker felt his eyes start to close, his head drooping forward as his teacher tried to explain the meaning of an algebraic variable to a bunch of stupid kids. He had managed to get his homework done, change his clothes, cover up more wounds, and make the early walk to school to correct his test. Good thing the day was almost over, though. He hoped his dad would be passed out when he got home, so he could sleep.

He literally muttered thank god, when his teacher told the class to start packing up. Riker headed over, and pulled his backpack off of one of the hooks on the coat rack. He shoved his folders and notebooks into it, and zipped it up quickly, moving to stand by the door. He waited, staring blankly at the ground for the two minutes it took for the bell to ring.

He walked quickly away from the school, praying to god that he didn't see that girl again. She had been looking at him for the whole lunch and recess. He thought he had gotten away, but about halfway home, she caught up with him.

He tried to ignore it. The way she walked, behind him by about ten feet. He could feel himself being stared at. Eventually, with the fear of her finding out about his home life, mixed with the severe lack of sleep he had gotten the past two days, he turned on his heel.

Fists clenched, he all but screamed, "Stop following me!"

She jumped back for a second, shocked. But after a moment of cool, collected thinking, she responded simply with, "How did you get those bruises?"

Riker began to sweat. She had noticed. "T-that's none o-of your b-business." He stuttered, suddenly very, very afraid.

"So, you think I _shouldn't _be concerned about the immediate physical well-being of others? That would kind of make me a sociopath, wouldn't it?" The girl said, hand on her hip like she owned the universe. Riker hadn't been able to comprehend half of that sentence, and he was a couple of years older than this girl! Bad news; she's smart. Lying was going to be hard with this one.

Riker tried to come up with something smart to say back, but came up empty handed. Unable to decide what to do, he simply acted like what he was; a scared child. He reached down to the concrete, picking up a stone that could barely fit in the palm of his hand. He threw it at her, not hard enough to do damage, just hard enough to scare. He then turned around, and began to walk away. "Just leave me alone, you freak, before I call the cops." He said snarkily. He didn't look back, but he was pretty sure she was still standing in that same spot, shock and anger still on her face. At least, he hoped she was.


	5. Chapter 5

Riker was sure he'd lost her this time. He'd taken a detour off the main road, and turned on a gravel path which hid his body well, with trees and underbrush on all sides. You could barely see the path. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had to get away.

Eventually, he had to stop running, and almost collapsed on the spot from doing so. His heart was racing just from the light jog, which, last month, would have given him very little trouble. He chose to sit, and pretty much fell down to the gravel, before backing himself up against a tree.

He began to sob. He's not sure why, but he does. Fear, maybe. Fear of death, fear of the truth, fear that, maybe, someday, he's going to have to realize that his family is no good for him. He's denied it for so long, but he's growing up. Maybe it was time to face facts.

And then suddenly, he wasn't alone.

That girl. That fucking girl! She was back. "I told you to leave me alone!" He yelled through his tears. She stood, watching sympathetically from a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, and long blonde hair draped over her shoulders. Riker gave up. He couldn't play this game anymore! If she found out, well so be it. He wasn't going to run anymore.

"My name's Rydel." She said, moving to sit cross legged beside him. "What's your name?" She asked, without missing a beat. It was like this was all rehearsed. He sniffled, wiping at his tears with the back of his hand.

"Riker." He said. He was trying so hard not to cry, trying not to give her another reason to ask if he was okay. He didn't think he'd have the strength to lie anymore.

Rydel nodded, obviously lost in thought. Now that she had caught up with him, she didn't have any clue what to say. She was afraid he would run again, if she started asking questions. "So," She said, trying to get him to pay attention to her. "I only want to help you, Riker. You don't have to tell me everything...just, anything I can do, let me know."

Someone cared. That was it. Riker couldn't help it anymore, couldn't hide, couldn't go on with his life carrying this secret all by himself. So he did something, that he would never regret, no matter what, simply because it needed to be done.

He told her.

All of it, all at once, like a torrential rainstorm of thoughts. He was screaming through half of it, and was forced to repeat himself sometimes because his words were indecipherable. Tears flooded down his cheeks, and Rydel wrapped her arm around his shoulders, lightly, as if she had some idea of how badly bruised they were.

This went on until Riker had cried himself out, and now laid across Rydel's legs as she combed her fingers through his hair in comfort. His chest was heaving, and his heart had yet to calm down, and his body seemed pissed that precious energy had just been wasted on an emotional breakdown.

"Are you hungry?" She asked softly, spinning Riker's messy hair between her fingers. He nodded, wondering why she had asked the question. "Do you think you could get away with coming to stay at my house for dinner? How long does your dad usually sleep?"

Riker stopped breathing, just now realizing that he broke the most important rule, and the punishment if he was caught could kill him. "No, no, I couldn't. I mean, if I get caught, god I'm already in so much trouble." He said, feeling another sob rising in his throat.

"You need to learn how to lie, Riker. It's the only way to keep yourself safe." She said, trying to ignore the red lines visible creeping out from under the back of his shirt collar.

"I...I can't lie. Then punishment..."

"Riker, stop. You're letting your father control every move you make. You're in bad shape. It's time to help yourself."

"Look, I can't. I'll get caught. I've barely got time to get home before my dad wakes up. Maybe tomorrow, though." Riker felt bad. Rydel was being so nice to him, and all he was doing was refusing her help and turning her away.

"Here, sit up." Rydel said, reaching for her backpack. Riker straightened his spine, running his fingers through his messy hair, wondering what she had. After rummaging through her bright pink bag for a moment, she pulled out a can of fizzy lemonade, and a protein bar. "Here." She said, handing him both items. "I know it's not much, but it's all I've got today. You need it. Eat."

Riker froze again. He didn't want to- actually he did. He really wanted to eat. He was just afraid. Rydel seemed to find this fear in his eyes, and hugged him from the side, putting her head on his shoulder. "You're safe, I promise."

"Swear you won't tell anyone?" Riker asked, his mood skyrocketing, looking at the chocolate coated bar, full of sugar and protein, to help him stay alive.

Rydel nodded. "I promise. Now, eat."

Riker ate. Then, he went home. And you won't believe what he found.

* * *

"Mom!" He screamed, dropping his backpack, and running into her arms. She hugged him tight, painfully unaware of the abuse he had endured. He didn't care. His mom was home, after more than two years.

His dad's mood had curiously changed. He was happy without a beer in his hand, he wasn't yelling, wasn't judging, wasn't threatening. He was _cooking. _Putting on a show for his mom, so she didn't take him away. At least that showed he cared whether Riker was around or not. Maybe.

They had pasta and chicken for dinner, and his father kept eyeing him, making sure he didn't eat more than he was allowed. Riker didn't need to. That protein bar had him feeling really good. After dinner, his mom suggested that Riker take a shower, to take care of that 'nasty greasy mop of a hairdo'. His father didn't openly object, so Riker accepted.

After a good meal and shower, his mom tucked him into bed, kissing his forehead. He wished she would stick around forever.


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, this one's short as hell, but it's another filler. Judge me. The only reason I'm posting this when it's so short is because it's been a couple of days and I'm fucking busy doing absolutely nothing, okay? :) **

**So, in inspiration from one of my new favorite authors on this site, 5 REVIEWS FOR THE NEXT ONE. **

**It'll be longer too, I promise. And, I also promise to update family today, because fuck its been like a week. **

**One last thing. I need someone for Rydel in Heart Made Up On You before I can start, so make up a fucking guy character for her and review it or something. Or, if you're a dude (or a lesbian, I don't judge), just I need a fuckin pair for her. **

**Read.**

"Riker, honey, breakfast's ready!" His mother called upstairs. Riker slipped on a black long sleeve, and jeans, drying off his hair from his morning shower with a towel. It had been five days since she had returned. Riker had eaten 3 square meals a day, taken a shower every morning, and had felt loved the entire time. He had filled out quite a bit, as his ribs were no longer so apparent, and he didn't have to fasten his belt so tight every morning. His injuries were also healing much better.

He skipped down the stairs, and followed the sound of his mom's voice to the kitchen. She was taking pancakes and bacon off the griddle, the table already set with a plate, silverware, a bottle of syrup, and a big glass of orange juice. As Riker sat down in front of his plate, his mom walked over, using the spatula to pick up two golden brown pancakes, which she promptly dropped onto his plate. She then scooped up three pieces of crispy bacon, placing them on the side. Riker smiled. "Thanks mom." He said, picking up the syrup bottle, and dousing his food with it.

"Of course, sweetheart. Are you sure you don't need me to pack you a lunch?" She asked. His father eyed him from the side of the room, threatening him with his eyes. Riker shook his head.

"It's okay, mom. I'll just eat at school." Riker says, between bites of pancake.

"All right." She said, moving to set down the rest of the pancakes on the counter.

His dad spoke up, from his spot on the couch. "Better hurry up, Riker. You're gonna be late." Riker didn't like the way his dad had been speaking to him lately. He knew he was being paranoid, but it almost sounded as if his dad had something planned for him, or maybe something up his sleeve. Still, the man hadn't made a move yet, and likely wasn't going to as long as his mom was around.

"Yeah." Riker said, taking a last bite of his breakfast, before sliding off of his seat at the table. He padded over to where his shoes were, a brand new pair thanks to his mom, and slid them on. Lastly, he swung his backpack over his shoulder, and headed over to kiss his mom on the cheek.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride? I could drive you." She offered, fixing his shirt collar for him. Riker shook his head. Truth is, he kinda liked walking. It gave him a chance to think and process all that's happened.

"No thanks, mom. I gotta go. Love you." He said, turning away, and heading towards the door.

"See you when you get home, Riker." His father said gravelly, sending chills up his spine. Riker shut the door rather quickly, rather hard. He knew he just ate, but he felt quite sick. That voice, really, really, made it seem like his dad was planning something.

* * *

The bell rang, signaling all of the kids outside to head to lunch. Riker met up with Rydel at the doors, and she passed a lunch bag into his hands. They had to be discreet about it because this school has a strict 'no sharing food' policy. Rydel had been bringing Riker lunch since the day after his mom showed up, and he couldn't be more grateful.

She had also introduced him to her family earlier in the week. He had walked with her to her home, and met her three younger brothers, mom, and dad. They were all very welcoming to him. They didn't know though. About his secret.

Riker walked inside, and sat at his same table next to Ellington. He wished he could be by Rydel too, but the school also has a strict 'no mixing of the grades' policy. He unpacked the brown paper bag, finding inside, two triangular halves of a ham and cheese sandwich, a bag of potato chips, a can of fizzy lemonade, and a plastic bag with brownies in it, with a note attached. In scribbling handwriting, it read 'from Rocky'. Riker smiled. Rydel had the cutest little brothers.

After lunch, the kids were herded back into their corresponding classrooms. Riker sat down, feeling content. His grades had made a complete rebound, and had actually improved as well.

Despite being as comfortable as he was, guilt had been eating at Riker for days. It shouldn't be this easy for him to lie to his father. It shouldn't be this easy for him to disobey. Besides, he's starting to get greedy. This _was _a survival thing. Now, he's eating more than he probably needs.

Riker rode out the rest of the school day, and then began his walk home. He felt a sense of intense deja vu when he saw who was waiting for him outside the school.


End file.
